


Aftermath

by Burdenedwithgloriousporpoise



Series: Marlowe Fics [11]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan, X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: (at least for now), Alternate Origin Story, Canon Compliant, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Flashbacks, Gen, Manga Spoilers, Unless canon is revealed that's explicitly contrary this is what I'm gonna believe happened yo, backstory reveal, chapter 81
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-04
Updated: 2017-05-04
Packaged: 2018-10-24 03:44:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10733454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burdenedwithgloriousporpoise/pseuds/Burdenedwithgloriousporpoise
Summary: "You are our tenth attempt to make this experiment happen. On paper your designation is Weapon X, but around here we're calling this project Wolverine. Have you ever seen a wolverine fight, Marlowe?""I don't believe I've seen one at all.""Hm." Hanji smiled. "They're famed for taking down creatures many times their size. We thought it was a lucky description of what we intended to do. Between you and me, I know we'll be successful this time. You've got a wolverine spirit.""Thank you, ma'am."(~OR~ What definitely happened leading up to and after chapter 81.)





	Aftermath

  
Sunlight like a knife through his right eye and he closed it, covered it with a hand. The dark was soothing, but every shift of orb in socket was a sharp pain. With his good eye he blinked, winced. Faint rustle of wind over a grassy plain. No sounds of life. He sat upright, joints stiff and aching.

His left arm and right leg were bare, his uniform in tatters frayed at the edges. With a sickening feeling he realized that the rust-colored stains soaked into the garments were blood--long dried, now a stiff crust. He examined the unclothed arm, curling fingers into a fist, stretching. He stood, stumbled as his right leg didn't immediately hold his weight.

Horror sank into his chest. The ground was littered with corpses, horse and men alike, spotted with boulders. He fell to his knees. How...how...?

_The woman's face was grim as she leafed through his profile. "You've already heard this is a highly experimental program. We don't have any assurance that it will work save for Hanji's word, and that based on calculations rather than actual human subjects." Her gaze flicked up to meet his. "We've lost a lot of good people in this project. She says it's ready now, but she's said that before."_

_From some reserve of false bravado he pulled a smile. "Trying to scare me off, ma'am?"_

_She answered his smile with a small sad one. "I just want you to know that there's no shame in stepping back, even now. Are you sure you want to do this?"_  
_Chills shot down his spine. "I will do whatever it takes to right the wrongs of this world," he said._

_She nodded and stood, extended a hand. "Then welcome aboard. Marlowe Freudenberg, you have my respect."_

He ran a hand through his hair. The right side of his face and head was tender and he winced. Suddenly there was a curious sensation of fading in and out and dark spots danced across his vision. He slumped forward and caught himself on his knees.  
  
_"It's not working. It's too much--he's shutting down, you have to--"_

_"No! We're so close! Keep going. He volunteered for it, he gave us--"_

_"What's more important, his life or your experimentation?!"_

_"My experimentation is for humanity! Continue!"_  
  
A far-away sounding thud and grass against his face. These memories...  
  
_"Can you hear me?"_

 _"_ _He's not responsive."_

_A sigh. "Inform me if his condition improves."_

Why...

_"Still nothing."_

Why did he remember nothing of them? Where had they begun? He closed his eyes...

_A surprisingly sparse room, furnished only by a table that held his dossier. Hanji stood as he entered. "You must be Marlowe! Welcome. We're all on a first name basis here." She walked to meet him and extended a hand. He shook it._

_"Alright, day one and we're gonna launch you right in. You know the overview--create a better soldier, a weapon to fight the titans, all that. Now we can give you the classified stuff. Our goal is to create a soldier of a different caliber; one with bones unable to be crushed in titan jaws, able to regenerate damaged tissue, and capable of generating blades using their own bone matter."_

_He half-laughed, incredulous. "How can that be possible?"_

_Hanji smiled and that crazy light entered her eyes. "Come with me."_

_He followed her down to a small stone chamber where waited a member of the Wallist Clergy. Hanji stood beside and gestured to the man. "Meet my friend Charles."_

_Charles inclined his head._

_"Charles is a minister of the walls. You've been brought here under the condition of total secrecy, so as you know mum's the word regarding everything I'm about to tell you."_

_He nodded._

_"We've been studying the titans together, and are astonished at their ability to regenerate limbs...heads...organs...everything! Imagine if we could channel that power in our fight against them?" That crazy gleam entered her eyes again. "And we can. Or at least, we think we can, and that's where you come in. Charles has granted us access to...how shall we say it? Confidential materials. We're using them on account of the fact that I have no idea what they are. So...we think we've come up with something that might work." Her expression darkened, and her voice took on a solemn tone. "You aren't the first. Others have given their lives in pursuit of the pinnacle we believe we've now reached." She took a breath and her expression grew more cheerful. "But thanks to those brave souls, you might be the first of a new generation. Are you ready?"_

_He nodded, and she beckoned. Charles and she led him through to another chamber, down a set of stairs to a fearsome looking machine. There was a tub of some sort of fluid framed with imposing looking restraints. Each arm of the restraint bristled with rows of needles, hooked to tubes that coiled back to larger boxes with switches and knobs, glittering brass in the torchlight._

_He shuddered and sweat broke out on his temples. But if this was the right thing to do, then he would do it. Imagine a world where the price of freedom was the service of a few, rather than the lives of a thousand! Such a world was one for which he would gladly contribute whatever he could give. A safe place...a place where the reclamation of wall Maria would never have happened, where families could grow together without fear of the outside. This was the right thing to do, and so it would remain his mission._

_Hanji's hand settled on his shoulder. "I want you to know, though--if you have apprehensions, you can leave. You won't remember a thing. In fact..." She turned him to face her, brow creased. "You're a bright kid with a big future ahead of you. You've got stellar grades and excellent leadership potential. If you die here, you sacrifice that--both for yourself and for humanity. I know they'll benefit from you out there. They will if you can pull this off, too, but I can't guarantee you'll even survive. You're not high-enough ranking to be ineligible for this program, but given even a year you might be. Are you sure you want to potentially give that up?"_  
_He swallowed. What she said was true. But...if he left now...even if he didn't remember anything, it would feel like he gave up a chance to do something greater. If this was what he was called to do--if this would be the greatest service to his loved ones, the best expression of his devotion to the 'right', then it was his honor to accept it._

_"I will continue with the program," he said, voice a little shaky._

He gasped and it was as if new strength shot through him. He pushed himself upright, it ebbed and he braced himself on his knees. A sense of identity returned in a powerful wave, missing pieces filling in slots he hadn't known were empty. But then...then...  
  
_"What should we do?"_

_"There's nothing more we can do. Mission failure."_

_A pause. "So now what, for him? If he wakes up he'll be haunted. A lifetime of pain moving forward and nothing to show."_

_Another pause. "I wouldn't say that."_

_"Hanji--"_

_"I want a clean slate and a return to normal life. You say he transferred from the 103rd straight to special research?"_

_"That's right."_

_"Put him back. ...Special research activities are now on hiatus." A pause before she spoke again. "His parents don't even know what happened, right?"_

_"Everything was done in complete confidentiality as per your request."_

_"Good. If we do it right he won't remember any of this, and as nobody else knew anything there should be minimal difficulty in re-assimilating back into normal_ _life."_

_"_ _Yes sir. But...all he's been through...surely there will be debilitating side-effects?"_

_"We can't help it if there are. It seems to me that if the memories themselves are blocked, much of the trauma will go with them. We've already seen that his physiology is unaffected...otherwise we wouldn't be letting him go. This is the extent of what we can do."_

_"Shame. He was a good kid."_

_"And now he has a chance to continue being a good kid elsewhere. Make it happen, Moblit."_

How long had it been? He straightened. Already he felt stronger. He lifted his left arm. The skin was smooth and clean. Then...after all this time...Hanji's experiment worked? He frowned. Whatever had happened here...

What _had_ happened here? Why could he remember the experiments but not the present?

The littering of corpses stopped almost in a perfect line a few yards beyond. Past them was only empty field, grass rustling gently in the breeze. Chills shot down his arms.

_A long bestial arm raised, dark against the sky, air over stone as the spray of stones grew nearer and an almost frantic sort of fear--they would certainly strike, there would be no escape--_

His mouth was dry and he swallowed. All of these dead. Slowly the reality sank deeper, deeper, setting in, fading from numb realization to sharp and dreadful horror. He shook his head.

_Screams of human and animal alike, hideous crashing, crushing, falling all around, suddenly a boulder before his face--_

A rush of memories, the days before, the mission, the moment when the first volley had torn through the town, the moment after when they knew everything had gone to pieces and they were all going to die...

And they had. There were hundreds here. Was this the entire Survey Corps? Tears ran down his face. What--what of their attacker? What of the rest of humanity? What of their objective? How much time had passed? It felt like only a moment ago he'd spoken with them. Only earlier that day. Living, breathing, nervous laughing, joking to keep their minds off the terror before them, some regretful, some confident--individuals, personalities, thoughts and perceptions lost to the world. His breathing came tight, almost in a panic. How could it be so? How could this be so? How could it be so quick, so over...and what--what--had they died for? This sacrifice, had it succeeded?

And yet here, amidst the field of the dead, he knelt alive.

He shook his head. It shouldn't be so...yet somehow...

He stood, legs still slightly shaky. Grass prickled his bare foot. It felt almost profane to feel such a sensation, looking around at the sun-baked leather of what once had felt the same. He shuddered. Brush of wind on skin, the warmth of the sun, flutter of a bird overhead, pastel colors of the landscape--suddenly every sense was overwhelming and everything felt wrong. How dare he live among the wretched open-air graves of his fellows? How dare he mock them with his survival? He folded his arms, held them to his chest, shoulders bowed.

Yet live he did.

Silence, utter and dreadful. What now? Could he scavenge 3DMG and return to the walls? Or what...according to Hanji's experiments, what more was he able to do?

_"You are our tenth attempt to make this experiment happen. On paper your designation is Weapon X, but around here we're calling this project Wolverine. Have you ever seen a wolverine fight, Marlowe?"_

_"I don't believe I've seen one at all."_

_"Hm." Hanji smiled. "They're famed for taking down creatures many times their size. We thought it was a lucky description of what we intended to_ _do. Between you and me, I know we'll be successful this time. You've got a wolverine spirit."_

_"Thank you, ma'am."_

He clenched his fist. A splitting, burning pain as three cuts opened across his knuckles and he grunted. Spiny blades extended from within the cuts, blood hissing into steam to reveal what looked something like crystallized bone. He grunted slightly and winced as the blades retracted, the cuts steaming as they sealed. No sign of the wounds remained. He exhaled, wiggling his fingers, clenching his fists. So it had indeed worked, and apparently to the fullness of what she'd hoped. What had happened to trigger this latent success? And what should he do now? Perhaps, with this power, returning to the walls was not unthinkable. Yes, he would return to the walls, and...

"There are some things you should know, first."

He whirled, heart in his throat.

Minister Charles stood behind him, hands folded in his sleeves.

"Charles? How--how did you get here?"

"First of all, I'm sorry. For everything already happened, and for all I am about to tell you. After you hear it, I'm not sure you'll consider your survival a blessing." He closed his eyes.

Instantly Marlowe's vision dimmed, and it was as if the other's voice spoke inside his mind, images and perceptions replaced with a rush of foreign information. Images flashed of their mission; of the aftermath in the town, the death of their commander and transformation of the boy Armin into a titan...then a basement, three books and an entirely new world, massive ships and flying machines, armies, titans...The trance cleared and he dropped to his knees with a gasp, sweat running down his face.

"I am sorry," said Charles. "Though unpleasant, that is the most efficient means of communication."

His jaw tightened and he shook off the rest of the dizziness, panting.

"I sensed your return to consciousness and made haste to meet you. I had help, of course." There was a slight distortion and another member of the clergy appeared beside Charles. She nodded.

Marlowe pushed himself shakily back to his feet. With all that had happened...what could he even say? Where could he even start asking? 

"There are many things we need to discuss." Charles's face was grave. "Like I've showed you, titans are no longer our biggest problem. They never were. Omni-directional gear and titan shifters will only take us so far--we need to equip ourselves to eliminate the root of the problem."

Chills swept down his spine. "You mean--the ones--Marley? The Marlians? Are we going to attack them?"

"We may have no choice. However, we will have an advantage: you, and the others like you. We need you to come back to the walls, but we need you to remain unseen. None can know of you or of the program's continuation. So far no one does."

Marlowe frowned. "I don't enjoy the prospect of being the pawn of a group accountable to none but themselves."

There was a pause, and then Charles sighed. "For sure, there is much we have done wrong. But now we have a chance to make it right. It's true that we aren't affiliated with the government of Paradi, and by careful design. The power we hold--the power we've given you--is too great to be wielded by those who don't, like you said, answer to something higher. It's true that many of us have made fools of our cause, but let not the folly of a few taint the whole. You and I have a similar heart, Marlowe. I understand your hesitation. But those beyond are driven by despair, driven by fear, lost in a wasteland without a path of morality upon which to anchor. Who will guide them if not us?"

He frowned slightly. "This isn't the wallist movement with which I'm familiar."

Charles shook his head. "The most outspoken are unfortunately sell-outs to the king. You could call us...a splinter of a minority."

"Would they say the same?"

"Maybe superficially, but they don't really care." Another pause. "None can know of your existence, when you return."

His heart thumped. "Hitch--"

"No."

"Why--"

"Because you're a dead man, Marlowe. There should've been no escape from what you suffered--your corpse was logged, a letter sent to your family."

Sorrow was a fist to his chest, an almost physical pain. "My family--"

"Maybe later. Not now. The shifters infiltrated our ranks so easily. Nobody saw them coming. We simply can't risk anything like that happening again, especially with the research and weaponry we're developing. We can't survive this war without it. If they are able to replicate or even prepare for what we have, the fight is over instantly in their favor. More secret than the 3DMG--more secret than the shifters--this is the deepest of the deep. So deep its members are comprised of dead men. You understand the weight of this?"

He swallowed, and it was difficult past the tightness in his throat.

"If you want to protect them, come with us."

Heat pulsed to his face, stinging his eyes. Marlowe closed his eyes and bowed his head. His family--Hitch--everyone--he truly was dead still, wasn't he? Officially? Gone from their lives, able to look but not to touch, a real-life ghost. Yet now he had a chance to heal through his haunting.  
He took a deep breath and nodded. His voice was quiet, hoarse. "I will come."

"Thank you."

A surge shot through his veins and he looked up at the minister. "I will come, and after we fight--after we win--after the world is restored, I will return to my loved ones."

Charles gave a weary smile. "I pray you do, Marlowe. I pray we all do."

**Author's Note:**

> So I was thinking about snk, and then friends invited me to watch Logan, and...


End file.
